


Green Glitter and a Mother's Secrets

by MerHums



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Omegaverse, Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerHums/pseuds/MerHums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg and Mycroft have been friends for years, but when a secret Mycroft is hiding finally comes to light, can their friendship survive when the feelings they've been hiding make it to the surface?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Caution. This fic contains discussion of rape, as well as references to torture and a panic attack. If you may be triggered by any of this material, the authors ask that you not proceed in reading. The authors would also like to point out that these topics are not meant to be romanticized in anyway, rather that they are used to show how characters may react in such cases.
> 
> If you or a loved one has been sexually assaulted, please contact the national help line at:  
> 800 656 4673 (United States)  
> 0808 802 9999 (United Kingdom)

“Da! Look!”

Greg looked up and smiled as a tiny hand pushed a paper over the counter as he stood, cooking dinner. “What’s this, Celine?”

“Invitation.”

Greg chuckled. “A birthday party? And a sleepover? For who?” he asked, turning down the heat on the stove and reaching out for the handmade invitation, completed with glitter and a green crayon.

“Henry!”

“Of course.” Greg glanced at the time. “This weekend, yeah? Well, if you have your room clean, yes, you can go.”

Celine darted out of the kitchen with an excited laugh, small and thin for her age but fast on her feet. Greg set the invite aside and pulled out his mobile, dialing Mycroft.

They’d both been surprised when they’d run into each other at parent’s night a few years ago, Greg more so. He’d gotten the scholarship for Celine through the Yard and so she’d been able to move schools, though she’d been nervous about it. Having someone there that she recognized from her father’s work had helped, even if it was the scary Mycroft who somehow had a child. The children had become fast friends anyway, mostly because they shared a birthday. Henry was shy and Celine wouldn’t take no for an answer, and the two traits complimented each other. Greg was relieved about the friendship if he was honest, because Henry helped Celine slow down and breath, something she really needed. And it was nice to have Mycroft around, as another single father to help navigate the different struggles.

“Holmes.”

“Hey, it’s Greg. Got the invite, Celine can come if she gets her room clean,” Greg said, pressing the phone to his shoulder as he stirred the noodles into the sauce. “Anyone else gonna be there?”

“No, but Henry insisted on making the invitation himself.” Mycroft couldn’t help the fond tone in his voice. Henry had been a surprise in a life carefully weighed and measured, but he wouldn’t trade his son for anything. Henry had always had his reticence, but Celine was good for him. Sometimes, when he allowed himself a rare daydream, he imagined Celine and Henry as siblings. Of course, that would require a relationship with Greg Lestrade, something he would not be opposed to, but also not something that had ever been discussed.

“Of course he did,” Greg chuckled. “I could tell. He’s still all about the green glitter, isn’t he?” He scooped some pasta into a bowl, sprinkling cheese on top for himself and dropping fresh spinach into Celine’s bowl.

“My son, despite his shyness, does rather like being fabulous.”

“And my daughter does love to egg him on,” Greg replied. “All right, time for dinner anyway. I’ll see you this weekend. We’re waiting on having Celine’s party until two weeks from now, because her cousins will be in town. It’ll be nice for her to have something to do on the day though. And she’d already planned to ask if Henry could stay over, so this saves me offering up my house,” he joked.

“Excellent. We’ll see you then.”

“Bye, Mycroft,” Greg said and hung up. “Celine! Dinner!”

Celine bounced back down to the kitchen with a grin.

**

Mycroft turned to Henry. “She's coming.”

Henry gave him a smile, and then went back to his journal. “Wait, mum,” he said after a few minutes. “Can we make a cake together? Instead of buying one?”

“Certainly. What kind do you want?”

“The kind with the sprinkles inside. And white frosting. With green glitter I can eat?” Henry asked hopefully. “That’s a thing, mum. Really.”

Mycroft chuckled “Okay. We can go to the store after dinner.”

Henry smiled and went back to his scribbling. “Mum? Can I ask another question?”

“Of course.” He stirred dinner.

“Are you going to ever tell Mr. Greg you're my mum so I can call you that when they're here?”

Mycroft’s hand stilled and he turned off the stove before walking over and sitting by his son. “Do you know why I don’t tell anyone I’m actually your mum?”

Henry shook his head, moving to sit in a cross legged position like Mycroft, putting his hands in his lap.

Mycroft smiled fondly. “I love you and I want to keep you safe. Most people don’t know I’m an omega and I prefer to keep it that way. Not everyone thinks that omegas are smart or capable. They’re idiots, but it’s still better for everyone if they assume I’m beta and go on.”

“But why?” Henry asked. “You're the smartest person I know. Even smarter than my teacher and the librarian and Ms. Anthea put together.”

Mycroft chuckled. “Sometimes being smart means letting people underestimate you.”

Henry frowned. “But if people are supposed to underestimate you, why don't you say you're omega? What if I'm omega? Do I have to hide too?”

“No, son. You never have to hide yourself. I've done it for a long time and I wouldn't know how to be a normal omega.”

“You could have someone teach you,” Henry said confidently.

“Maybe so. Come on. Let's eat.”

“Okay mum.” Henry climbed up from the floor, and ran over to the table.

**

“All right, Celine, you know the rules,” Greg said, knocking on Mycroft’s door. “Behave, listen to Mycroft and don't get into trouble.”

“Yes, daddy.” She practically buzzed with energy.

Greg mussed her hair. “Go on then,” he said as the door opened. Celine pushed past, dropping her bag. “Well all right. Hi Mycroft.”

Mycroft smiled and picked up the bag. “Come on in,” he said. “I made you coffee.”

“Bless you. Work was hell today, and I still have paperwork to go home and do,” Greg said, smiling.

“Ah yes, the never quite defeated paperwork monster.” Mycroft led him into the kitchen, hearing Celine run upstairs in search of Henry.

“How was your day?” Greg asked, sitting down at the table, a steaming mug making its way into his hands as if by magic.

“Long. The wheels of government never cease. But I am off for the weekend.”

“Do you want to take the kids to the museum or something, then?” Greg asked. “They’d love it.”

“They would, and I could almost certainly be convinced.”

“Sounds good. Maybe Sunday, keep them occupied before school starts back up again,” Greg said. He yawned, catching a scent of something in the air, not quite sure how to identify it.

Mycroft caught the movement. “Did you need a nap or more coffee?”

“Probably the coffee,” Greg laughed. “I really need to do the paperwork when I get back. But, I don’t have a six year old clamoring for attention when I do get home, so I can take my time.”

“The flat will ring with emptiness,” smiled Mycroft, going to get the coffee pot, only to feel a wave of warmth. What? Not now.

“Yeah, but think of it,” Greg joked. “So much silence. So much sleep without someone pouncing on me at five in the morning.” He frowned, the scent in the air growing stronger, sweeter. “Do you have something in the oven?”

Mycroft blushed. “Er, no, not at all.” He tried to think of how to extricate himself without utterly ruining everything but his brain seemed to be shutting down.

“You all right?” Greg asked, frowning. “Mycroft?”

“I….may need to cancel this weekend after all.” He fumbled for his phone, knowing Anthea would take care of Henry.

Greg stood up, walking over to him. “Mycroft?” he said again, the scent strong now. “Mycroft. Are...Are you...in heat?” he asked in disbelief.

“It...appears so,” he said faintly, not looking at Greg. “I….I’m an omega.”

“Fuck.” Greg took a breath and then cursed at himself for doing so. “Right. The kids. Do you want me to take them and go? I’ll watch Henry for you.”

“Anthea is already on her way. I...I’m sorry Gregory.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. I don’t understand, but I’m sure you had reasons. C’mon, I’ll get you to bed,” Greg said, breathing slowly through his mouth.

Not for the first time Mycroft was heavily aware that Greg was an alpha. “As I’m getting older my heats are sometimes irregular,” he said by way of explanation. “For my work it has always been easier to present myself as beta. But...Henry is my son.”

“It’s alight,” Greg said. “You don’t owe me an explanation.” He helped Mycroft stand straight, leading him up the stairs.

Celine and Henry came to the doorway and exchanged a look.

Greg glanced at the kids and sighed, pushing open Mycroft’s bedroom door. “Celine, you knew?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I didn’t know that Henry’s dad was his mom.” She looked at Henry and smiled. “Does this mean your mom and my dad can get together?”

“I dunno,” Henry said, looking at Mycroft with concern. “Is Ms. Anthea coming for me?”

Greg nodded. “Yeah. Why don’t you get your bag ready? You can come over tomorrow and play with Celine, maybe.”

Henry nodded and went back into his room, tugging Celine with him.

Greg breathed a sigh of relief and then bit back a groan as he got a wave of scent. “All right. Need anything, Mycroft?” he asked quickly.

“I want you to stay,” muttered Mycroft. He knew what he was asking, what he was saying. But over the last year he'd come to realize that if there was any one alpha he'd allow to see him, it was Greg. But this was a terrible way to spring it on him. And if he was perfectly honest he was terrified that Greg would say yes.

“You don't mean that,” Greg said, pushing Mycroft over to the bed. “God. Go on, Mycroft. Call me when it's over.”

“I would never lie about such a thing.” Mycroft allowed himself to be settled into bed, almost dreading the cold, lifeless toys he’d be using.

“Yeah, but you're in heat,” Greg said, reaching out a hesitant hand and pushing Mycroft’s hair back. “I won't take advantage. Maybe another time, yeah?”

“Of course,” he said faintly turning his head away and shivering as another wave passed through him.

“D...D’you want my shirt or something?” Greg asked. “The scent I mean. I know it sometimes helps.”

“Only if you wish. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.”

“It's okay,” Greg said, biting back the feeling of utter need washing over him as he unbuttoned his shirt, wanting desperately to comfort the trembling omega, soothe Mycroft’s heat. Taste his slick. “Here.” He covered Mycroft with his shirt, stroking his back. “I..I'm going to leave  
now. C..call when you're finished. If you want. I mean I'll...Jesus. You smell so good.”

Mycroft nodded and curled in on himself. As much as he feared Greg staying, he equally wanted this alpha. Gregory would be different. He wouldn’t harm him.

Greg left slamming the door firmly behind him, heading to the kitchen to chug some coffee, hoping it would help drown out the delicious scent while he waited for Anthea to appear.

**

Mycroft called Greg two days later. “I apologize.”

“It's fine,” Greg said. “Honestly. I mean, I was surprised, but it's fine. I get it.”

“We should talk. Meet me for lunch?”

“Sure,” Greg said. Mycroft rattled off an address and then hung up. Greg blew out a heavy breath, and went to grab his coat.

**

“Hi,” Greg said, sitting down.

“Good afternoon,” said Mycroft, wondering where he should start.

“Should I grab us some coffee?” Greg asked, glancing over at the counter.

“I’ve got some coming. And sandwiches.” Mycroft sighed. “I’m not accustomed to talking about such things.”

“Just start where you're comfortable? Or at the beginning?” Greg suggested.

Mycroft ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not exactly a pleasant story,” he said, looking around at the afternoon crowd and the sun coming through the windows.

“Would it be better if we took our food for a walk?” Greg asked. “Less people.”

“Perhaps it would be. There’s a park nearby.” He gave the waiter a smile as he delivered their food.

“Let's then,” Greg said, wrapping his sandwhich up in the brown paper it was sitting on and grabbing the styrofoam cup with his coffee. “C’mon.”

Mycroft waited until they were out on the street. “I used to do more field work. Not all the time, but often enough that I was on suppressants. I’ve always presented myself as a beta at work, very very few know that I am not.”

“Anthea, and the like?” Greg said, nodding.

“Exactly.”

“All right.” Greg gave Mycroft an encouraging smile and bit into his sandwich.

“Seven years ago I was on a mission. It doesn’t matter where, what matters is that things went badly and I was captured.”

Greg nodded, just listening.

“I was held, tortured.” He took a deep breath. “I was there long enough that I was off my suppressants and I went into heat, though some of it may have been stress. My captors took full advantage of the situation.”

“I see,” Greg said quietly, reaching out and putting a hand on Mycroft’s shoulder.

Mycroft gave a faint smile before it faded. “I killed them. As soon as I regained my senses. Made my escape and got home. A few weeks later I found out I was with child.”

“And that's where you got your Henry, then?” Greg said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “A little bit of heaven from a lot of hell. God, that sounded like my mother.” He shook his head. “I'm sorry that happened to you though.”

“It was a long time ago. I considered my options but I decided that despite the fact that I’d never planned on a child, I couldn’t just terminate my pregnancy. And when he was born with my eyes I knew I couldn’t give him up. I hid my pregnancy the whole way through save from those few that know I’m omega. And publically I’ve always presented myself as his father, though privately he calls me Mummy.”

Greg smiled. “Well. At least the most important person knows you're his mum, then.”

“It’s been difficult as he’s grown older. He wants to call me mum everywhere. Just the other day he asked me why I couldn’t be mum in front of you.”

“But how do you explain these types of things to a child?” Greg said leading them to a bench and sitting down. “What did you say?”

“I just told him it’s better for my job if everyone thinks I’m beta.”

“Oh. Good. That's what I told Celine when she asked. Well more something along the lines of Mycroft works very hard and sometimes that means keeping a secret so people don't think things that aren't true about you. But she accepted it anyway,” Greg said.

“I didn’t mean to catch you in all of this.”

“I know. But it happened. And if you’d rather we don't talk about it, pretend it never happened, we can,” Greg said. “But you're my friend. And I don't mind being someone you can come to.”

Mycroft looked at his own sandwich. “I’ve never been much interested in relationships, but if I were to be...you’re a good man.”

“Can I ask something personal?”

Mycroft nodded, sipping his coffee.

“You weren't expecting your heat, were you? So what happened? And it was only what, two days? That's not long, Mycroft.”

“The doctors say it’s a function of me growing older and never having bonded. My body's biology doesn’t know what to do with itself and apparently wants me to bond sooner rather than later. Two weeks ago, when I canceled that playdate? It was an unexpected heat.”

Greg leaned back. “Is this going to keep happening? There's nothing they can do? What about your work?”

“The only thing they can suggest is that I bond. But who would even want such a thing?” He didn’t dare look up at Greg’s eyes.

“I’d bond you. Only If you wanted,” Greg said hurriedly. “But you know me, and you trust me. I won't push for kids, we already have those. It could be a bond of convenience. I come over when your heats happen, get you through them. Takes care of the problem you're having with them too. We don't even have to register it if you don't want.” He shrugged, taking another awkward bite of his sandwich. “Just a thought. I’d do it as a friend. I know I won't marry again anyway so no worries there.”

Mycroft was silent a long moment, contemplating his own sandwich. “And what if I said I wouldn’t mind it being more than a matter of convenience?”

“It's not about you minding , it's about you wanting,” Greg said. “But then….then I wouldn't want it to be just about convenience either. I said I won't marry again, and I won't. Because I don't know if I can ever trust someone with Celine after what her mom did. But you...I trust you, Mycroft.”

“Would you marry me?”

Greg nodded as a stiff breeze blew past, ruffling their napkins. “You are an exception to the rule. As always,” he said with a smile. “But you never seemed interested.”

“I’m more interested than I’ve ever let show. I have a hard time trusting most alphas, but as you said...you I trust.”

Greg reached out, setting his hand on Mycroft’s thigh, Palm up. “Then would you like to go to dinner with me?”

Mycroft looked up and met his eyes as he took it. “I would. Very much.”

“Good,” Greg said, squeezing tight. “Maybe my place? Unless you'd like to go out. I'll just have to get a sitter.”

“If you’d like to go out I can make childcare arrangements.”

“We could. Be nice,” Greg said with a smile.

Mycroft took a bit of his sandwich and, hesitatingly, leaned against Greg.

Greg wrapped an arm around him, pressing his cheek to Mycroft’s head for a moment before turning back to his food.

Mycroft smiled and stayed there, feeling safe in a way that he hadn’t in a long time.

They finished their food, and Greg sat up. “You have to go back to work?” he asked quietly.

“I only have one meeting this afternoon. I could reschedule. You?”

“All staff meeting that I have to get too, and some paper work. But after, do you wanna grab the kids and take them out somewhere?”

“I would like that very, very much.”

“Sounds good.” Greg squeezed Mycroft’s hand. “Should head back though. Try and get out early.”

“All right. Call me and I’ll have a car come get you.”

“Sounds good.” Greg hesitated, then cupped Mycroft’s face, leaning in and kissing his brow. “See you later, sweetheart.”

Mycroft gave him a warm smile. “Until later.”

**

Greg slipped into the car waiting a few hours later. “Hey,” he said scooting next to Mycroft. “Shall we go get the kids from school a little early? Surprise ‘em?”

“They’d like that.” Mycroft threaded his fingers in Greg’s. “Henry’s started asking about his birthfather from time to time. I’ve told him she’s dead, but maybe if you’re around he won’t be looking so hard for a father.”

“Think you'll ever tell him the truth?” Greg asked, squeezing his hand.

“Maybe one day. But I think six is too young.”

“It is. Let him question for a bit longer.” Greg pecked his cheek.

“There’s only one person I’d like to be his father.”

“Speaking of, what are we going to tell them?”

“Let’s see how things go. But I think they’ll be pleased.”

“Yeah, probably.” Greg chuckled as the car slowed. “Here I'll go get them.”

“All right.” Mycroft smiled after him.

Greg signed Henry and Celine out, and lead them to the car as they chattered excitedly. “Here we are,” he said, opening the door. “One, two, in and buckle.”

Celine grinned. “Are you and Mr. Mycroft going to have grownup time?”

“Celine!” Greg scolded. “Do you even know what grownup time is?”

She slouched back. “I know Mommy would tell me she was going to have grownup time,” she muttered.

Greg bit back a sigh, and looked at Mycroft for support, pulling out his mobile, and gesturing.

 

[Have you had a talk with Henry about what adult time actually is?

 

[He’s never asked]

 

[Is it better if we address it when they're together? Before we you know...]

 

“They're talking about us,” Henry said quietly, eyes analyzing Greg and Mycroft.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and put his mobile away. “Greg and I are discussing some things that would affect your future.”

Greg pocketed his own and nodded in agreement.

“Like what?” Henry asked, frowning.

Mycroft took a breath. “How would you feel about Mister Lestrade being your Papa?”

“Really?” Henry asked quietly, shooting Greg a look.

“Really,” Greg replied.

Celine grinned. “You'd be my mommy?”

“Yes,” said Mycroft.

Henry looked at Celine for a minute, leaning in to whisper in her ear. He nodded and pulled back as Celine whispered in his. “Okay,” he said finally. “We'd like that. But, will we have to tell people we have two papas?”

Mycroft swallowed. “No. I'll be your Mummy publicly as well.” The thought terrified him, but he'd do it for them, for this family.

Henry smiled shyly. “That's good,” he said, looking at his hands.

Greg glanced at Mycroft, and reached over for his hand. “I'm glad you two like the idea. We’ll tell you when you can refer to Mycroft as your mum in public. Just wait for a little.” He smiled. “And on the topic of adult time, well yes, Mycroft and I will probably have adult time to ourselves. Adult time is something that's fun for us and nice and a way to show we like each other and want to be together. And when Mycroft's heat comes, I'll take care of that too. Do you two want to ask questions?” he finished hesitantly.

“Do I get my own room?”

“Well, that depends where we live,” Greg said. “But probably so. Next?”

Henry looked at their joined hands and sighed. “Are you two going to ignore us now?” he asked, looking down at his feet. “Because if we won't be important enough anymore for you guys, I won't like this.”

Mycroft reached over and tugged his son closer. “If you ever feel like I'm ignoring you, tell me. You're still important to me and always will be.”

“Okay mum,” Henry whispered, scenting Mycroft and tucking his head into Mycroft’s side.

Mycroft kissed the top of his head and smiled at Greg. Celine hesitated a moment then wiggled in and tucked herself against Mycroft’s other side. Mycroft's heart twisted; he really did feel like a mother.

Greg smiled, shifting so Celine had room. “Anything else? Because if not, we have a surprise for you.”

“Besides going to the museum?” Henry asked, looking over.

“How did you…?”

“I can feel the way the car is turning. There's only a few places by where we are that you'd take us.”

Greg snorted. “Brilliant. And no, we're just going to the museum.”

Henry grinned, blushing at the compliment.

Mycroft hugged both the kids and let go as the car stopped. “Let's go.”

Celine jumped out first, Henry chasing after her. “That went well,”’Greg said, climbing out and keeping an eye on them as they chased pigeons.

“They're practically siblings already.”

“Yeah. It's nice.” Greg reached out and took Mycroft’s hand. He smiled. “Can I kiss you?”

Mycroft nodded, searching his eyes.

Greg cupped his face, drawing Mycroft forward for a chaste kiss on the lips, that had Greg immediately stepping in closer, putting his hand on Mycroft's hip with a sigh. “I could get used to that,” he murmured.

“As could I. I...I was wary of relationships before and more so after. I just ask for your patience.”

“You're in charge,” Greg said. “You tell me how fast, how slow. And I'll ask before I do anything new, yeah?” He kissed Mycroft's forehead. “We can do this.”

“I know we can.” Mycroft took Greg’s hand and gave him a smile, leading him to where the kids were chomping at the bit to go inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Greg met Mycroft at the door to the restaurant the next evening. “Hello, gorgeous.” He smiled, and pecked him on the cheek. “Hungry?” 

“Yes, I am. They know me here,” he said, taking his hand as they walked inside and hoping he wouldn’t give anyone a heart attack.

“I see.” Greg felt the surprised looks on them, heard a few quiet murmurs, and wished he'd worn something nicer. 

“Good evening Mister Holmes,” said the matire’d with smooth professionalism. “We have your table ready.”

Greg followed Mycroft back to a far corner. “So they really know you here,” he said awkwardly, after sitting down. 

“First step in coming out publically as an omega,” he admitted. “Most anyone who cares will know after this evening.”

“Should have said. I would have dressed better,” Greg said taking a sip of his water. 

“You look fine, Gregory. Please don’t be nervous.”

“I'm not nervous, just...wary, I guess. This is a big sorta thing for you. And I'm feeling...a bit possessive. And a bit wary.” 

“You said that twice. I understand.”

“Well, maybe more than a bit wary,” Greg said, cracking a smile. 

“In some ways for me it is a relief.”

“What is?” Greg asked. “Not hiding?” 

“Yes. Not having to deny my second gender.”

“Then I'm glad,” Greg said. He brushed his foot against Mycroft’s under the table. “Should we order?” 

“Indeed. And the food here is excellent.”

“Well, do you have a suggestion? You know what I like,” Greg said.

“Perhaps the chicken pilaf?” 

Greg turned to look at the man who spoke. “Sorry?” 

“Henrico,” said Mycroft. “Greg Lestrade, this Henrico. He works down the hall.”

“Hello,” Greg said, nodding. 

“Is the Peterson project going well?” Mycroft left his hand in Greg’s.

“As well as it can be with you...missing a few days here and there, lately.” Henrico smiled. “I see why now.” 

“A few personal issues I'm clearing up.”

“Should we be looking forward to a happy announcement then?” 

Greg bit his tongue, allowing Mycroft to handle the situation, though he squeezed his hand gently, nearly imperceptible. 

“Shortly, it seems. and how are things with that young man you've been seeing?”

“He’s fine, of course. Enjoys staying home, cooking, cleaning. The general exciting things for most omegas.” 

“Far less than you might suspect.”

“Well, yes, but you’ve always been different, haven’t you,” Henrico said, still smiling. “Been hiding away it seems!”

Greg was noticing that they were starting to draw attention and he wet his lips, gaze flickering around, taking in their surroundings, the people that were so obviously pretending they weren’t watching. 

“Not hardly. Conforming to expectations, perhaps.” Mycroft held his gaze. 

“Perhaps,” Henrico said. “Oh! How is your little one? Pleased with the change in things?” He asked, glancing at Greg. “Or disappointed?”

“He's great, actually. Such a smart boy,” Greg said. “Don't mean to interrupt, but I am hungry, love. Do you mind if we order?” he asked, addressing Mycroft, intent on making it look as though Mycroft was in charge. Respected. Which he was.

Mycroft signaled the waiter. “If you'll excuse us, Gregory is hungry.”

“Of course,” Henrico said. “‘Must keep the alphas happy.” He stepped away and Greg let out a breath as Mycroft rattled an order off for the both of them.

“Well then.” Greg raised his eyebrows as the waiter left. “That was a bit. Well.” 

Mycroft merely inclined his head. 

“Was I all right?” 

“Perfect, I assure you. These are waters I have to negotiate.”

“Didn't think you needed help. But I am here if you do,” Greg smiled.

“And that means a lot.” He squeezed Greg's hand. 

“So. Been awhile since I've been on a date,” Greg said. “Should we skip the small talk and go straight to the meaning of the universe? Or just gaze longingly into each other's eyes?” he joked. 

“It’s either that or we really give them something to talk about,” teased Mycroft.

“Yeah? Like what?” Greg asked, grinning. 

“I could think of a few things. Might get us in trouble for public exposure,” smiled Mycroft.

Greg wet his lips. “That ah, that would be quite a hit in the society pages and around the office, wouldn't it?” 

Mycroft chuckled. “And yet you’re intrigued.”

“What can I say? The idea is very appealing.” Greg shrugged and brushed Mycroft’s foot with his own under the table. “Very appealing.”

“Mmm, I’m afraid if I did so I would be unable to attend this restaurant. And I would very much miss their veal. However...my driver is a woman of discretion. If you are interested in something semi-public.”

“Mmm the thought has its virtues. I suppose you’ll simply have to eat your dinner and then we’ll see about the lift home,” Greg replied, slowly dragging the toe of his shoe up Mycroft’s calf. 

Mycroft shivered and slowly dragged his finger along the back of Greg’s hand.

Greg smiled, and took a sip of his water. “Should we have some wine coming with dinner as well?” he asked.

“Always. Ah, here comes the appetizer.”

Greg leaned back. The waiter set down their plates and the wine then left. “I can't wait to see what the wine tastes like from your lips,” he said quietly, picking up his fork, watching Mycroft. 

Mycroft gave him a smile, but knew the heat was betrayed in his eyes. He leaned close to Greg. “For you I would get on my knees,” he whispered.

“Then perhaps we’ll see what you look like on them,” Greg said, smiling, allowing his gaze to drift over what he could see of Mycroft’s body. 

Mycroft sat back and adjusted his suit coat. “Indeed. I look forward to it.”

“So do I,” Greg replied, and they began to eat. 

Dinner seemed interminable, but finally they were sipping the last of their wine. Most of the other dinner guests had already gone. “My car will be waiting,” said Mycroft, weaving his fingers into Greg’s.

“Then we should go find it,” Greg said. He leaned in, pecking Mycroft on the cheek. “Dinner was lovely.” 

“Thank you. I enjoyed it as well.” He got to his feet and led Greg outside to where his car was waiting at the kerb.

Greg opened the door for him with a smile. “After you, beautiful,” he murmured. 

Mycroft slid in, feeling his heart start to race. He could smell Greg’s arousal. The alpha been trying to keep it tampered throughout dinner, but now that they were in the confines of the car it filled his senses.

Greg reached out, sliding a hand over Mycroft’s shoulder. “Hi,” he said, wetting his lips and leaning in to steal a kiss.

Mycroft moaned softly, melting into the kiss, feeling his own arousal as the car started to move.

Greg pulled Mycroft a bit closer, coaxing him onto his lap. 

Straddling his hips, Mycroft took a deep breath, feeling Greg’s thick cock underneath him. He groaned and ground down against him.

“Feel so good. Smell amazing,” Greg muttered, scenting Mycroft, kissing his throat. “Good omega.” 

“Alpha,” he breathed, offering his throat. Greg’s scent was overwhelming his own, his hands tight on Mycroft’s hips. Mycroft felt a spike of anxiety and tried to ignore it.

Greg slid one hand back, tugging Mycroft’s shirt free and pressing his palm to the bare skin of his back. “I want you,” Greg breathed, kissing his scent gland again. “Want to know what you sound like. Taste like. Feel. My beautiful omega.” 

Mycroft felt his lips on his scent gland. The one that he had, for so long, pretended didn’t exist. And yet Greg had found it unerringly. The alpha’s hands were warm on his bare skin.

“Mmmm,” Greg moaned quietly, moving his hand to toy at the top of Mycroft’s arse. “What do you want?” 

“I’m not sure,” breathed Mycroft, feeling himself on the verge of simply giving himself over.

“Can I taste you?” Greg asked, nipping gently at the curve of his neck, breathing him in. He squeezed Mycroft’s hip, then shifted, rubbing his cock. 

“Mmm, how?”

Greg licked over his scent gland. “I want to suck your cock,” he muttered, squeezing gently. 

Mycroft moaned. The car stopped suddenly, sending them both against the seat behind Mycroft. He gasped as Greg landed on him, panic hitting him at the weight of an aroused alpha. He wiggled from underneath Greg and pressed himself against the door, gulping in air and reminding himself he was safe, though he was shaking.

Greg looked at him, reaching out with one hand. “Mycroft? Are you-”

“Sir?” the driver asked, opening the door, glaring at Greg, one hand behind her back. 

“I’m fine, Ophelia,” Mycroft grit out the words. “Just.. get us to my home. Please.” 

“Of course, sir.” Ophelia shut the door with a final warning look at Greg. 

Greg moved and sat back, hands in his lap, head tilted down submissively. “Mycroft?” he tried again, a bit hesitant. 

“I apologize,” said Mycroft softly, taking another breath and cracking the window.

“Did I do something?” Greg asked. 

Mycroft looked at his hands. “It’s not you. I… I have rarely been intimate in my life. And since Henry…”

Greg hesitated and then moved from the seat, sinking to his knees in front of Mycroft on the floor of the car. “I will never force you,” he murmured. “I will never hurt you.” He bowed his head, resting it on Mycroft’s knee. “Whatever you want, I will give. Whatever you do not, I will accept. Even if we are never intimate, I want to be with you. I want to try.” 

Mycroft gently rest a hand in Greg’s hair. “I do want you.” he found his heart calming a bit.

Greg nodded, nuzzling Mycroft’s knee. “I will wait for you.” 

“That is the kindest thing you could ever say to me.”

Greg looked up at him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly. 

Mycroft licked his lips. “I would like that, but let's wait until we’re at my home?”

Greg nodded and moved away, giving Mycroft space. “If you don’t want me to come over...I can go home,” he said. 

“No, no, I think once we’re in my home it’ll be okay. Just… this is a confined space. Though, I liked your head on my knee.”

“Do you want me to come back over there?” Greg asked, smiling slightly. 

Mycroft nodded.

Greg shifted back down, laying his head on Mycroft’s knee with a quiet hum. “All right?” 

“Yes. Thank you.” Mycroft ran his fingers through Greg's hair.

Greg smiled. “I like that,” he murmured. “Feels nice.” 

“Feels good to me too.”

“Good,” Greg said quietly, kissing his knee.

“If you stay with me… I still have nightmares sometimes.”

“That's okay. If you didn't, I'd be surprised,” Greg replied. “I can handle them.” 

“You would have me? As damaged as I am?

“I don't want anyone else,” Greg replied. “I only want you, Mycroft.” 

“Thank you. Truly.”

“You don't need to thank me. I should be thanking you.” 

“For what?” Mycroft kept stroking his hair.

“For letting me have this chance,” Greg said. “For accepting me. For caring about Celine.” 

“You love your daughter very much. And your wife treated you very badly.”

“I don't care so much what she did to me. But what she did to Celine, lying and telling her the things she did...that's what made it worse. I can't trust even her mother with her, how would I trust anyone else? But you…. I trust you.” 

“And I trust you Gregory. With the secrets I can tell, and with my son.”

Greg turned his head, pressing his lips to Mycroft's palm. “Thank you,” he said as the car slowed to a stop. He pulled away as Ophelia opened the door again, letting Mycroft leave first before climbing out. “Thanks for checking on him,” he said to the driver. 

“If you hurt him….” she said warningly.

“I won't. But if I do, I know you'll take care of it,” Greg said, nodding to her. 

“There may even be a line.”

Greg smiled. “There should be,” he said. “He's worth it.” 

Ophelia gave a nod and waved him into the house.

Greg stepped in, wondering where Mycroft had gone. “My?” he called, toeing off his shoes. 

Mycroft gave a smile as he came out of the kitchen, offering him a glass of wine. “Welcome home. I take it Ophelia threatened you?”

“Yes. More than.” Greg took the glass and sipped. 

Mycroft chuckled softly. “My people are very protective of me.”

“Like I told her. I know they'll deal with me if needed, they won't ever have to, and you're worth threatening me over.” 

“I’m glad they haven’t chased you off.”

“Mm it would take a lot to,” Greg said, taking another sip. “Do you wanna sit?” 

Mycroft nodded and led him to the sofa. “It was a confined space and being pinned that set me off, I think.”

“You're not sure?” Greg said quietly, sitting down a bit away from Mycroft, letting him choose to come closer or not. 

“That’s what I’m assuming. I was often bound when I wasn’t being beaten. They...threatened to use me as soon as they found out I was omega. It just didn’t actually happen until I went into heat.”

Greg nodded understandingly, taking another sip of his wine. 

“I’ve got scars,” he said softly, rubbing his thigh. “And not just the emotional ones.”

“And if you chose to show them to me...then I’ll be honored,” Greg replied. “But you don’t have to. Emotional or physical.” 

“The emotional ones you are already aware of.” Mycroft moved a little closer. “Some of them, anyway.” He sighed. “Henry has heard my nightmares from time to time. They scare him almost as much as they scare me.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Greg said quietly, reaching out and offering his hand. 

Mycroft took it, and then scooted up against his side, resting his head on Greg’s shoulder. “Sometimes I am very, very, tired of doing this alone.”

“Then stop,” Greg said quietly. “Let me help you.” 

Mycroft took a breath, and then another one. “Come upstairs?”

“Are you sure?” Greg asked, stroking his hair back. “We don’t have to.” 

“I don’t know that we’ll have sex or not, but I’d like you to see some things.”

Greg nodded. “All right.” He stood, and let Mycroft lead him up by the hand. 

Mycroft led him up to his room and encouraged Greg to sit on the edge of his four-poster bed. He went into the walk in closet and opened one of the safes, pulling out a box. Biting his lip, took a breath and brought it to him. “I’m going to make tea while you look at this. It’s medical records and a diary I kept for some time while I was pregnant with Henry.”

“All right,” Greg said. He set aside his wine and squeezed Mycroft’s hand. “Do you want me to come down when I’ve finished or stay here?”

“You can stay here, I’ll bring the tea. Unles you’d rather keep drinking the wine?”

“Tea is fine. I think I want a clear head,” Greg said quietly, reaching out for the box. 

“Okay. I’ll be back.” Mycroft leaned over and kissed the top of his head before vanishing downstairs.

Greg opened the box, taking the medical file first. Even after years in homicide and on the street, he felt his stomach twist at the images. Anytime there was a picture that showed Mycroft’s face, his eyes were blank. Greg knew him well enough to know that it meant he was hiding himself away, locking his emotions down. He read over the notes from the rape kit, bile rising in his throat, then set the file aside, reaching for the journal. 

Mycroft’s handwriting was normally clear and crisp, but in the pages of the journal it was practically jagged, no doubt because of the break in his hand, but also the emotional turmoil he was going through. As Greg flipped through the pages, there were some portions that were completely unreadable, fifteen entire pages filled with deciding whether to keep the baby or not, until one day the writing began to smooth out. It was slow, but surely becoming more like the handwriting he knew, less of the words about coping and dark thoughts, more about preparing for the baby and getting back to work. Greg couldn’t help but smile at the page where Mycroft decided on a name after finding out the sex of the baby. He set the journal aside as he heard Mycroft coming up the stairs, and looked over at the door. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly. 

“Gregory,” said Mycroft softly, eyes flitting over the journal as he handed him the tea. He perched on the bed himself, the box and journal between them.

Greg pushed the box out of the way, and set the journal inside before putting the lid back on. “Can I do something without you panicking?” he asked. 

Mycroft nodded, wondering.

Greg set his tea on the ground, and then leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Mycroft and hugging him. “You’re all right,” he murmured. “You’re not broken. You’re not ruined. You’re all right.” 

Mycroft sucked in a shuddering breath. “Thank you,” he said honestly, meaning it. He pulled away and met Greg’s eyes. “Sometimes I feel that Henry saved my life. But you...You could help me to live.”

Greg cupped his face. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, searching Mycroft’s face. 

“Please.”

Greg leaned in, pressing their lips together with a quiet breath. 

Mycroft breathed against him. He picked up the box and dropped it on the floor, laying back on the bed and taking Greg with him, moaning softly.

“Can I touch you?” Greg asked, keeping his hands to himself, waiting for Mycroft to guide him. 

“Yes. Just don’t pin me down.”

Greg nodded. “All right,” he murmured. “Tell me if you need to stop.” He set his hand on Mycroft’s hip, and began to kiss over his jaw and neck. 

Mycroft breathed in, accepting Greg’s affection. After a few moments though he put a hand on his shoulder. “I want to… but can you just stay here tonight? I need to get used to your scent.”

“You want me to sleep with you? Actual sleeping?” Greg asked quietly, pulling back a bit. “I can. Just let me make sure Celine is okay and all that.” 

“Of course. Take all the time you need. They can come back here tonight, I know Henry wouldn’t mind her company.” Mycroft rolled out of bed and picked up the box to put it away.

Greg sat up and smiled at him as he came back out. “C’mere?” he asked, standing. “Just for a minute.” 

Mycroft came to him. “I am doing my best to not be skittish.”

“I know. I’m doing my best to not make you panic,” Greg said, reaching out. He tilted his head, and offered his neck to Mycroft to scent, holding his hand gently. 

Mycroft leaned in and scented him deeply. “You smell safe,” he said quietly.

Greg turned his head, kissing Mycroft’s shoulder. “I hope I am safe for you.” 

Greg turned his head, kissing Mycroft’s shoulder. “I hope I am safe for you.” 

“I trust you, Gregory. I do. With myself and with my child.”

“Speaking of, I better call Celine’s sitter. Are you sure you want her over here?” 

“I’m fine with it if you are. And if we are going to be together, she’ll be here regardless. I’ll make up a spare room.”

“All right. But you know that she’ll just sneak in with Henry and build a fort to sleep in,” Greg said, releasing Mycroft’s hand and going for his phone. “He’s with Anthea, right?” 

“As per usual, yes.”

“Good. Would she be willing to swing by mine and get Celine? I can go if it’s trouble,” Greg said. 

“Of course, no trouble at all.” Mycroft stepped closer and took his hand. “I hope you don’t think I’m a horrible tease.”

“I don’t,” Greg said. “And like I said, I don’t mind if we never have sex. It’s not about that. It’s about us, and you being able to be open and comfortable.” He leaned up, kissing Mycroft’s forehead.

Mycroft gave him a smile. “Thank you. If nothing else, when I have my next heat, I know I’ll want you in my bed.”

Greg kissed his cheek. “I’d be honored,” he said, meaning it completely. He smiled and stepped away, calling up Celine’s babysitter. 

**

“That was exhausting,” Greg laughed, coming into the kitchen where Mycroft was waiting. “But they’re in bed. Finally.” He sat down at the table, where a fresh mug of tea was waiting for him. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, taking a long drink. “Perfect.” 

“Well thank you for getting them put down,” said Mycroft, reaching across to squeeze his hand.

“No problem. Think I got swindled though. Do you normally read Henry two stories? With voices?” 

Mycroft chuckled. “Not normally, no.”

Greg grinned self deprecatingly. “Oh well. He got me.” 

“Henry does have some of my brother’s talent for getting what he wants from time to time.”

“Speaking of Sherlock. How much does he know about... all this?” Greg asked, waving his hand slightly. “I mean, not only what happened to you, but about us being a couple.” 

“I...haven’t told any of my family yet. Mummy will insist on dinner the moment I tell her. And they don’t know Henry is mine.”

Greg set down his tea, blinking. “They don't know?” ”

Mycroft looked away, fidgeting with his cup. “I never expected to...f...grow to care about anyone the way I have you. It’s possible that they may have deduced, but they’ve never asked and I’ve never said. The only people that know that I gave birth to Henry are the doctors who took care of me while I was pregnant and delivered him, and Anthea. In fact, she first started working with me while I was pregnant, took some of my load off and made sure I felt safe.”

“Mycroft…” Greg whispered, voice cracking. “You didn't tell them, did you? Anything?” 

He couldn’t look at Greg’s face. “I told you. I’ve done everything alone.”

“God, sweetheart,” Greg said. He reached out and set his hand over Mycroft’s. “I can’t even imagine.” 

Mycroft swallowed. “You haven’t had an easy time either.”

“No, I haven’t. But I had help. You were alone.” 

Mycroft stood and started straightening a cupboard. “It’s fine, Gregory,” he said quietly.

“It’s really not,” Greg said. “If I could, I’d go back and help you. Be there for you.” He sighed. “But if you don’t want to talk about it any longer, that’s all right.” 

“I’m just uncomfortable,” he said quietly. “I don’t mind speaking of it, in fact it would probably be good of me to do so. I’m just not used to being able to.”

“Can I make you more comfortable someway?” Greg asked. 

“I don’t know. This is… all unfamiliar territory for me, Gregory.” Mycroft stopped fidgeting and faced him. “Perhaps I should start seeing that therapist Anthea recommended some time ago.”

“I think that would be a very good choice,” Greg said, nodding, looking up to meet Mycroft’s eyes. “And if you want, I could come with you. Maybe just for the introductory session, maybe for one after. The point is, I’m here. Whenever, however you need me, love. All right?” 

Mycroft nodded and crossed the room, leaning down to kiss him gently.

Greg kissed him back. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed,” he murmured. He stood and took Mycroft’s hand, letting Mycroft follow him up to the bedroom. 

Mycroft let himself be led. He went into the bathroom to change into pyjamas, not yet ready for Greg to see all the damage. When he returned Greg was already in bed. He climbed in after him and curled up in his arms, feeling, yes, safe.

**

“Mycie!” Mycroft found himself engulfed in the arms of Ella Holmes as soon as she opened the door, pulling her son into the house. “Rodger! Mycroft’s here. You're staying for dinner aren't you, dear?” 

“Yes, Mummy. I…need to talk to you and father.”

“Oh you better go fetch him then,” Mummy said, waving her hand. “He pretends to be deaf so he doesn't have to come up from those trains of his. Go ahead, I'll just finish up. Where’s Henry?” 

“Having a sleepover with a friend. It’s part of what I want to talk to you about. I’ll meet you in the study.” He headed down the stairs to talk to his father.

“Humph. Can't talk about it over the table,” Mummy muttered. She shook her head and went into the kitchen.

Mycroft fetched his dad and made sure his parents were settled as he sat across from them, unsure where to start. “I suppose I should begin with Henry.”

“Yes, what friend is he staying with?” Mummy asked. 

“There’s a police inspector I’ve grown close with. He has a daughter the exact same age. Greg’s an… alpha.”

“That's lovely, Mycie. What about it?” 

“Well, two things, really.” Mycroft looked at his hands. “Gregory and I have grown quite serious. And also...Henry is mine. I gave birth to him.”

“Well we did wonder. Is this Gregory an old flame? The father perhaps?” 

“No,” said Mycroft quickly. “The circumstances of Henry’s conception were...less than pleasant.”

Roger glanced at his wife, then his son. “When you were out of contact for almost a year?”

Mycroft nodded.

“Mycroft, what happened?” Mummy asked, frowning. “Tell us, dear.” 

“Nothing good,” he said quietly, uncharacteristically fidgeting with his hands. “It’s in the past, now. I never expected to grow close to anyone the way I have grown close to Gregory.”

“And are you going to marry this man? Does he know about Henry?” Mummy asked. “Will you be bringing him to dinner? Where did you meet him? Are you going to bond?” 

She broke off as Roger laid a hand on her shoulder and looked at him. 

Mycroft gave a soft smile. “We’ve talked about bonding, yes. Our kids are both fine with it. I did not want to bring him to dinner without speaking to you first. And yes, he was the first person I told about Henry since it happened.”

Mummy narrowed her eyes. “Where did you meet him?” 

“Through his work as a Police Inspector.”

“Is he the one who works with Sherlock?” Mummy asked. “The silver haired one? He's very good looking!” 

“Yes, Mummy, that’s the one.”

“Oh I like him. You'll bring him and the daughter to dinner this week. No buts!” 

“Yes, Mummy. Thursday?”

“Yes. And you'll have to tell me what she likes to eat! How old is she? Roger! We're going to have a granddaughter! Okay, supper before it gets cold, Mycroft what size is she? I want to buy her one of those cloaks I saw at the store,” Mummy said, standing and going out, expecting them to follow.

Roger looked over at Mycroft and stood, coming over and wrapping his arms around him. “You all right?” he asked quietly. 

Mycroft nodded and leaned on his father. “It’s hard, coming out publicly as an omega, and all of this.”

“I know.” Roger stroked his hair back. “You could have told us, Mycroft. You know that right?”

“How, father?” Mycroft’s voice cracked, just a little

“Just like this,” Roger replied, holding him a bit tighter, pressing a kiss to his brow. “It's all right to break down sometimes. We’ll help you get put back together again. And I'm sure your Greg would too.” 

“He already is helping. More than he knows. He doesn’t like that I’ve done all of this alone.”

“I don't either,” Roger replied, pulling away. “But I understand why you didn't come to us.” He smiled. “Your mother is going to lose her mind if we don't get down there.” 

“I know. And Henry knows I’m his mum, has for a while. I told him he doesn’t have to lie anymore.”

“I'm very glad he doesn't have to any longer.” Roger said, leading the way out. “He's such a good boy. Smart. Like you and Sherlock.” 

“He really is. And Greg will be a good father to him.”

“Do you love this man, Mycroft?” Roger asked quietly. 

“I think so,” said Mycroft quietly. “I feel safe with him.”

“I’m very happy for you then. You deserve someone good, something good.” 

“Thank you.”

**

Only two days later, Mycroft was gritting his teeth and texting Anthea and Greg, thinking of how his mother was going to no doubt kill him for missing dinner. But another heat had come and all he could do was curl up under his blankets and wait.

Greg got the message as he was on the way to Mycroft’s house via tube, phone alerting just as he stepped out of the station. “Shit,” he muttered. “Celine, dinners canceled, pet. You're going to stay with Anthea again, all right?” 

Celine nodded. “You going to stay with Mister Mycroft?”

“Yeah I am,” Greg said, crouching down to look her in the eyes. “And I might bond him too. That's still okay with you, right?” 

Celine nodded. “I’d like Mycroft to be my mommy.”

“I'm glad, pet. I'd like that too.” Greg stood. “C’mon, let's go.” 

**

Greg let himself into Mycroft’s house with the key Anthea gave him. “My?” he called, following the scent up the stairs, cock throbbing. 

“Here,” called Mycroft, groaning as he smelled Greg’s approach. He had his toys out, unable to wait, and the scent of aroused alpha only made another wave of slick drip down his thighs.

Greg tapped on the door. “Can I come in?” he asked, taking slow breaths through his mouth. 

“Please, Gregory. I need you.”

Greg groaned. “I'm here sweetheart,” he said opening the door, going over to the bed. “Tell me what you want.” 

Mycroft pulled him down to scent him, gulping it in.

Greg stroked his back, trying not to pin Mycroft down. “Lay down,” he crooned, kissing his shoulder. “Let me get undressed.” 

Mycroft did so, playing with his toy as he watched Greg.

“God you’re gorgeous,” Greg said, stripping quickly, climbing onto the end of the bed. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yes, God, please, yes.”

Greg ran his hands over Mycroft’s chest and stomach, seeing the scars, stroking him gently. “So beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down, scenting Mycroft. “My beautiful omega.” 

Mycroft moaned and rocked up, craving more of Greg's touch, even as fear trickled down his spine. 

“Do you want my bond?” Greg asked, trailing a finger over his neck. 

Mycroft nodded and offered his throat. 

Greg dropped his head, dragging his teeth over Mycroft’s neck, feeling the omega tremble under him. He pulled back, wetting his lips. “Mine,” he purred, pressing his cock against Mycroft’s hip. “My omega.” 

Mycroft groaned. “Slow. Please. Use my name.”

“Mycroft,” Greg murmured, kissing his neck. “Do you want me?”

“Yes. But I am afraid.” He admitted quietly. 

Greg bit back a growl, and pulled himself away. “Then toys,” he said, palming his cock with his free hand. “I won’t take you until you’re ready.” 

“Thank you.” He snuggled closer, breathing in Greg’s scent. 

Greg groaned quietly, reaching down for the toy in Mycroft’s arse, pulling it slowly out. 

Mycroft moaned, feeling more slick as the toy pulled free. 

“Mycroft,” Greg murmured, nuzzling him. “Can I taste? You smell so good, sweetheart. I want to taste you.”

“Ohh. Yes, yes.”

Greg slid down, setting the toy aside, pushing his face between Mycroft’s thighs, kissing his leg gently. He darted his tongue out, lapping up some slick from his thigh, one hand stroking Mycroft’s stomach soothingly. 

Mycroft moaned and let his legs fall further open. “More.”

Greg let out a quietly possessive growl, cupping Mycroft’s hips and tilting them forward for better access. “Yes.” 

Mycroft fisted the sheets, relaxing into the heat of his tongue. 

Greg continued, listening to the noises pouring from Mycroft’s lips, moaning himself. 

He could smell Greg’s arousal. “Please. Alpha. Gregory.” He heat was a need an ache that almost burned. He'd never wanted so badly. 

Greg moaned, biting his lip in frustration as he moved away, picking up a toy, pressing it slowly into Mycroft, squeezing the base of his own cock. “God, Mycroft.” 

The toy wasn't enough. “You. Gregory.” He wanted the alpha in him. He rolled onto his side and backed against him. 

“Sweetheart,” Greg groaned, rutting against him, clutching Mycroft to his chest. “You wanted to wait.” 

“Need,” he moaned. 

“No,” Greg said, scenting him. “Next time.” He reached down, pushing the button on the base of the toy. 

Mycroft moaned, feeling the knot inflate and arching against him. 

Greg murmured praises, scenting Mycroft, constantly nuzzling against him as he reached down, stroking him off. 

Mycroft gasped. “Yes, yes.” He wanted to be covered in Greg's scent. 

Greg rubbed his cock against Mycroft’s arse. “Come for me, Mycroft. Show me, sweetheart.”

Groaning, Mycroft spilled over his hand, lost in pleasure. 

Greg cradled him against his chest, pressing kisses along his neck. “That's it, love. Beautiful, Mycroft.” He reached down, wiping his hand off and pressing the plug to start the knot deflating. 

“You come?”

“Not yet,” Greg murmured, nuzzling Mycroft, burying his face in his hair. “Are you all right? Calm?”

Mycroft nodded, still moving against him, wanting the alpha’s scent on him. “Bond?” 

Greg kissed his head, reaching down to pull the toy out. “Yes,” he murmured. “C’mon then. Lay down, My. Present.” 

Mycroft moved onto hands and knees, presenting and nearly trembling at the desire still igniting his veins despite his orgasm.

Greg shifted, running a hand down his back and clutching Mycroft’s hips. “Good omega,” he murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “Ready?” 

Mycroft nodded and cant his hips. “Please.”

Greg lined himself up, groaning as he pushed in, cock enveloped in Mycroft’s wet heat. “Beautiful,” he breathed. “God, Mycroft.”

Mycroft could only moan. Some part of him was surprised by his own calm. But this was Gregory and he was safe.

Caressing Mycroft’s back, Greg pushed in further, moaning in quiet content. “Sweetheart. My omega. Bond,” he whispered, dropping down to kiss Mycroft’s neck. “So good.” 

“Safe. My good alpha,” He moaned. 

“Gonna knot you,” Greg murmured. 

“Bond please. Take care of me. My pup.”

Greg rocked his hips, knot pressing at Mycroft’s entrance. “Tilt your head,” he muttered, nudging him gently. 

Mycroft offered his throat, knowing this good alpha would treat him right. 

Greg scented him, finding the perfect spot to lay his mark. He thrust his hips forward, and bit down as his knot pushed into Mycroft, filling completely. 

Mycroft howled with pleasure as the pheromones coursed through his system. Greg covered him but it was a blanket, not smothering. Safe, not controlling. 

Greg pulled away, a wave of possession moving over him. He scented Mycroft, lapping over the bite, laying them down and pulling him to his chest. “My omega,” he purred. “So good, pet. So good. Beautiful, Mycroft.” 

“Gregory, Alpha,” murmured Mycroft, exhausted already.

“Sleep,” Greg murmured, kissing his neck. “Rest, sweetheart.” 

Mycroft snuggled against him and did so, for once, with no fear in his heart.

**

Two days later, Mycroft woke up out of heat. He stretched, sore, and rolled onto his side, looking at Greg, still asleep next to him. It felt good. Right. And knowing that he no longer had to be alone felt better than he’d ever like to admit.

Greg woke up as he felt Mycroft stroke his cheek. “Hey, love,” he mumbled, stretching and arching his back like a cat, eyes squeezed shut as he yawned. “All right?”

“More than. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Greg opened sleepy eyes and smiled. “Time to get up?”

“Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find us on AO3 at [Janto321 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/)and [HumsHappily](http://archiveofourown.org/users/humshappily) or on tumblr at [merindab ](http://merindab.tumblr.com)(janto321) and [HumsHappily](http://hums-happily.tumblr.com)!


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